“We did!” Someone from the audience shouts. It sounds a bit like Hermes.
I shake my head and climb off the dais, Persephone’s laughter trailing behind us. She sounds so fucking happy, the sound a perfect match to the warmth in my chest. I stride to the throne and sink onto it.
This is our kingdom, our throne, ours.
Persephone’s still laughing a little as she arranges herself on my lap. “‘I hope you enjoyed the show. It’s over now.’ Really?”
“Succinct and to the point.”
“Mm-hmm.” She shifts to straddle me. “I was going to suggest a second throne down here.”
I grip her hips lightly, letting her guide this. “The person who created this one still lives in the lower city. I can commission a second if you’d like.”
“No.” She palms me through my pants. “I like sharing. It gives me access to you.” Persephone leans down until her lips brush my ear. “Did you hold off coming so I could fuck you on this throne, Hades?”
“Yes.”
She laughs again. Gods, I love her laugh. “Insatiable.”
“Only for you.” I smooth my hands up her sides. “I love you, little siren.”
“I love you, too.” She kisses me, a slow, decadent kiss that makes the room spin away for several long moments. Persephone digs her hands into my hair and grins against my lips. “And it’s a good thing you’re just as insatiable as I am, because I’m nowhere near done with you yet.”
Coming Soon:
Electric Idol
“Bring me her heart.”
“Yes, you said that already.” I don’t look up from my phone as my mother paces from one side of the room to the other, her skirt swishing about her legs. Knowing her, she chose her clothing today in order to maximize her dramatic flouncing.
She’s nothing if not a showwoman.
“And yet you’re still sitting here.” She spins on her tall heel and glares down at me. She’s fifty, and though she’d skin me alive for saying as much in public, no wrinkle or gray hair betrays her. She spends a fortune to keep her skin smooth and her hair a perfect icy blond. Not to mention the countless hours with her personal trainer to accomplish a body twenty--year--olds would kill for. All in the name of her title, Aphrodite. When one has the role of the goddess of love, one must meet certain expectations.
It’s unfortunate for everyone that my mother takes replicating the original Aphrodite’s reputation to heart. The goddess wasn’t exactly known for her even temperament, after all, and my mother is even worse than her namesake.
“Eros, put down that goddamned phone and listen to me.”
“I’m listening.” My bored tone betrays my waning patience, but I’d like to fast forward past all the dramatics to where she tells me what she wants done and I take care of it so she can keep her hands lily white. “You’re going to have to be more specific, Mother. Do you literally want her heart?”
She makes a sound suspiciously like a hiss. “You are such a little shit. Call me by my title or nothing at all.” This is the Aphrodite she doesn’t show anyone else in Olympus. Only I get the dubious privilege of witnessing what a monster my mother truly is.
But then, I’m not one to throw stones.
I make a show of turning off my phone and giving her my full attention. “You’re about to send me out on another one of you little errands, so why don’t you dial it back and give me a pretty smile before you ask me again—-this time with more details.”
Another person would flinch in the face of my mild tone with the threat of violence beneath it. Aphrodite just laughs. “Eros, darling, you really are too much. You know very well that I want her literal heart. After what Demeter pulled last fall, nothing else will do. With Hades in her corner and the new Zeus untried, she’s throwing her weight around as if she’s anything other than a glorified farmer.”
Considering Demeter is responsible for ensuring that all of Olympus gets fed, and Aphrodite mostly handles arranging for vapid Olympians to marry other vapid Olympians, one could argue that Demeter should be in charge.
That’s not how Olympus works, though. No matter what my mother thinks, there will never be one ruler of this city. Instead, we get the Thirteen. Zeus, Poseidon, Hades, Aphrodite, Demeter, Artemis, Hephaestus, Ares, Athena, Hermes, Dionysus, and Apollo. And, of course, Hera, though that title will be unoccupied until the newest Zeus marries someone and fills the position.
That’s what my mother should be focusing on. She arranged all three marriages for the last Zeus—-the fucker kept killing off his wives, which suited my mother quite nicely, as she loves a wedding and hates everything that follows. She should be frothing at the mouth to parade Olympus’s eligible people in front of the new Zeus.